


Biweekly Log 12

by stephanericher



Series: Drabbles [15]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, M/M, Other, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:26:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5186951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drabbles published on tumblr from 10/25/15 to 11/7/15</p>
            </blockquote>





	Biweekly Log 12

1\. Sword (Nebuya Eikichi/Mibuchi Reo)

Eikichi’s direct, the kind of person who won’t give an ambiguous answer or an overly-complex one; he has a knack for simplifying things so that they’re clear but still hold the right meaning. Sometimes it’s frustrating, like when Reo doesn’t want the simple truth, but then he usually isn’t asking Eikichi when he wants something other than that. It’s a way Reo would never want to be himself, but with Eikichi it’s refreshing and relaxing, the knowledge that what he sees is what he’s getting and he doesn’t have to overanalyze Eikichi’s words or gestures to find something that isn’t there. And perhaps it’s in this way that they complement each other the best, a happy medium between straightforward and subtle, a sword whose blunt end is heavy and whose blade is sharp and fine enough to cut effortlessly.

* * *

2\. Unfair (Midorima Shintarou)

The concept of fairness is too abstract for Midorima to really believe in, that things are just—higher powers have their own reasons for doing things, and are clearly not concerned with things shaking out evenly. And he’s been told that he himself is profoundly unfair, and while his first urge is to apologize he’s always managed to suppress it. He is unfair; his tactics—in basketball or anything else, are unfair. But he will continue to use them because he can’t let himself be caught up in unfairness. And anyone else could use them to their own advantage, too—following the horoscopes, practicing and studying diligently, taking good care of themselves. But they choose not to. And in that way, it’s not really unfair at all.

* * *

3\. Enough to Share (Kagami Taiga/Himuro Tatsuya/Alexandra Garcia)

The pictures on the table are like small bookmarks in their relationship, the slow progression from where they started and where they are now. There are a few where Alex is younger than Taiga is now, and he and Tatsuya still have skinned knees and too much baby fat in their faces; there are a few from right before everything between him and Tatsuya went to shit; there are a few from right after they’d started dating; there are a few very recent ones—the ones from their first real reunion, when he and Tatsuya had just made up and Alex couldn’t really calm them down enough, are the ones that he always looks at fore just a little bit longer, the unfiltered elation on Tatsuya’s face and the way Alex is hugging both of them half to death.

That isn’t to say that their happiest times are all behind them or that they have nothing to do but look back. Right now Tatsuya and Alex are in the kitchen eating ice cream straight from the carton; Alex has already warned him that they’re going to eat it all if he doesn’t hurry up. So he ducks through the doorway; Alex is leaning against Tatsuya’s shoulder and licking her spoon and Tatsuya has spots of ice cream on his face. Alex pulls Taiga in and kisses him; she tastes like sugar tart berries and her lips stick to his. Tatsuya’s hands are cold when they touch his hand; Taiga squeezes them. Alex hands Taiga her spoon, and there really isn’t that much left—but it’s enough to share.

* * *

4\. Feelings (Seto Kentarou/Hanamiya Makoto)

Makoto likes to pretend that his feelings aren’t involved in this, but Kentarou knows better. Really, when someone’s as transparent and touchy as Makoto can be (and when their feelings are as messy and volatile as Makoto’s are) it’s kind of hard not to know better. Maybe Kentarou would feel differently if he wasn’t so emotionally involved himself, and therefore wouldn’t bother with trying to unravel Makoto’s façade like a cheap woven garment caught on a fence—or if he didn’t know Makoto so damn well in the first place.

He hasn’t pushed too hard yet, because even like this it’s enjoyable (it’s hard to not be amused by Makoto’s logic twisting itself even further to justify his self-declared lack of feelings in this matter). But he’s going to soon—it’s going to be even more fun after Makoto can’t hide anymore and they can really date like this is a functional relationship (or as functional as it’ll ever get with the two of them).

* * *

5\. Nightfall (Ogiwara Shigehiro)

It’s close to nightfall when he gets to the court. It’s deserted; it’s just him in his school uniform with the ball—Mochida had told Ogiwara to take his time, and that he was there if need be, but this is something he has to do alone. Well, the first step is. It was he who felt that game tear him apart from the inside, just him; he’s got to be the only one who starts to bring himself back. Especially when Mochida’s already done so much for him—maybe this is only symbolic, but it’s something. 

And he’s putting it off some more, standing with his thoughts. He bounces the ball on the asphalt in front of him; the feeling is familiar at once, like sliding into the swimming pool on a hot day. He bounces it again. Three more times, and he pulls the ball up and shoots—it bounces off the backboard and right back to him. It’s the same mistake he’d always been prone to, the one his coaches had always told him about, that he’d been listing to one side and just slightly dropping his shoulder; that instinct has not gone away. But bad habits can be broken. He picks it up and shoots again, jumping this time—it hits the rim, rolls around, and sinks right through. Ogiwara shouts, wordlessly—but this time it’s a shout of joy.

* * *

6\. Trust (Midorima Shintarou, Sanada Naoto)

Sanada’s not a very good coach. It’s not that he doesn’t know the game or even the players; he does. But he just has no idea what to do with them other than to set them loose, no idea how to contain them or even maintain the illusion of control. He shouldn’t be coaching kids their age—but despite that, he is their coach. And so Midorima must trust him, no matter how much he doesn’t want to, no matter how much he resents having to. It’s too bad he’s the only one trying to make that effort.

* * *

7\. Can and Can't (Sakurai Ryou/Takao Kazunari)

As soon as Kazunari hears the utensils clatter to the floor he’s up; a few seconds later he’s in the kitchen, forks scattered all around the linoleum with Ryou in the center.

“Ryou-chan?”

Ryou looks up; there are tears in his eyes and he’s clutching the last fork in his hand. “I can’t…”

“Hmm?” says Kazunari, leaning on the doorframe.

“I can’t! I can’t make dinner; I can’t empty the dishwasher—I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m so clumsy; I have a deadline tomorrow that I won’t be able to make and—”

Kazunari, having finally tiptoed through the forks, wraps his arms around Ryou, cutting him off mid-rant; Ryou sobs into his chest and his whole body shudders.

“I’m sorry…” he whispers again, returning Kazunari’s embrace.

Kazunari rubs his back until he stills enough to not resemble a frightened rabbit so much. This kind of thing always happens when Ryou nears a deadline for his manga; he always makes it in on time but he’s always afraid he won’t, that he won’t have enough time to eat or sleep or do anything around the house. But right now he needs a few minutes of quiet calm to re-center himself, and Kazunari’s going to force that on him if need be. Ryou’s trembling slows and he pulls away finally.

“Should I make dinner?”

Kazunari shakes his head. “Nah. I’ll take care of it. You go work on your manga.”

Ryou sticks out his lower lip. “I can do both—”

“I know you can. But I can make dinner, too, you know. You’ll work better if you’re not distracted, okay?”

Ryou nods. Kazunari kisses him on the forehead, fingers curling against the small of his back.

* * *

8\. Mystery (Nijimura Shuuzou/Himuro Tatsuya)

There are certain things that flicker across Tatsuya’s face when he touches the ring around his neck, too fast to see like a momentary glitch before the screen unfreezes. Shuuzou wants to ask about it but he can’t bring himself to; this is one of the many things about Tatsuya he doesn’t know how to approach. And it’s not even that; Shuuzou can tell that this is even deeper and more complex than the rest, like buried radioactive uranium inside of him, and with one wrong move there won’t be any going back—there won’t be anything to go back to. 

He doesn’t touch it when his hands skim over Tatsuya’s skin like a boat across water avoiding the rocks and buoys, sweeping across Tatsuya’s shoulders and neck and chest but giving it a wide berth. Tatsuya’s noticed this and he still won’t bring up the subject, but he always kisses Shuuzou softly, tenderly, in ways he doesn’t usually, after that, as if it’s his way of showing appreciation. And that makes Shuuzou believe (even if he’s clinging to false hope) that someday, Tatsuya will be ready to tell him.

* * *

9\. Chaos (Hara Kazuya, Seto Kentarou)

Hara, Seto decides, thrives on chaos. Not anarchy, but upset balances and uncertainties and things that don’t make sense and end up going nowhere. It’s the kind of thing that Seto doesn’t care one way or the other about (it’s interesting to study for a few minutes in between naps, but not beyond that) but it utterly confuses Yamazaki and makes Hanamiya angry. And that tips the situation into further chaos, spiraling like a point in the universe through space-time. In some ways it’s almost poetic, and sometimes Seto doesn’t hate not sleeping through it.

* * *

10\. Feet (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

They make a jug of sweet tea and drink it on the back porch, the smell of the wet wooden table hitting their noses and never really going away because there’s no breeze; they’re not sure whether the moisture on their hands is mostly sweat or mostly condensation on the glasses at this point. It’s too hot to move; Aomine’s stuck in a position where he’s staring at Midorima’s foot—the deep swooping curve of his arch, the mass of his heel, the uniformity of his meticulously-filed toenails. He has beautiful feet; it’s the kind of thing Aomine doesn’t think is worth bothering to say right now because he’s too tired to argue—but then again, Midorima might not want to argue either.

“You have beautiful feet,” says Aomine.

Midorima shifts to turn; the chair creaks under his body and Aomine can see the shadows change from the corner of his eye.

“Thank you.”

Midorima’s voice is soft, like iced tea in hot weather.

* * *

11\. Irrational (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Mibuchi Reo)

There’s a steadfast determination in Chihiro’s face; his grey eyes shine like iron and Reo would be floored at how hot it is if he could forget that it was about a light novel release. He really doesn’t get Chihiro’s fixation, or how much Chihiro likes to extrapolate about the characters’ wants and preferences—doesn’t he have any of his own? Isn’t he interested in Reo’s?

Reo knows he’s being irrational, and that he has his own hobbies (like tarot) that Chihiro fails to understand, and usually he can respect that. But sometimes, fairly or not, he feels more than a little bit left out. But when they’re sitting on the couch together, both reading, and Chihiro’s still got that look in his eyes, it’s hard to hold that kind of grudge, especially against a light novel.

* * *

12\. Body (Araki Masako)

Her thirtieth birthday is just around the corner; that’s the year her father always told her that her body would start going downhill—but for him it was also the year he hurt his back in an accident and the year she was born, and unless somehow Masako gets a freak injury and a child to take care of she decides everything ought to be fine. Except it isn’t, really—it’s been a few years since she could drink like a fish but now she’s done after one and a half beers; she can’t stay up even close to midnight anymore; she has to increase her training regimen to keep her strength up. Maybe it’s been a long time coming and she’s just started to notice it—but either way, it’s a marker of things she isn’t happy with.

* * *

13\. Butter (Kagami Taiga/Himuro Tatsuya)

Taiga likes butter on his toast and Tatsuya likes peach preserves. It’s the way it’s been since the first time Taiga had stayed over at Tatsuya’s house when they were both nine and Tatsuya’s mom had made them toast and eggs. He’d tasted some of the preserves and made a face back then because they’d tasted weird and too sweet—Tatsuya had laughed and the matter had been forgotten. But now, when he kisses Tatsuya in the morning, it’s never too sweet, always rich and tempered by the bitterness of coffee and the taste of Taiga’s own buttered toast still clinging to his mouth, and warm and wholly Tatsuya—wholly precious, wholly dear to him.

* * *

14\. Flu (Miyaji Kiyoshi/Takao Kazunari)

If it was up to him Kiyoshi would be a terrible patient, but luckily for Kazunari when Kiyoshi’s this sick he’s too weak to really do anything in terms of resistance. He lets Kazunari stick the thermometer under his tongue all right, and when he tries to “disprove” that he has a fever he can’t really stand up and get out of bed. And he refuses to try to go to sleep only to let it catch him and bring him in anyway, and so when Kazunari’s gone out to fetch him another glass of water he returns to find Kiyoshi’s breathing deepened. It’s actually kind of cute like this (it would be more if it wasn’t so worrisome how sick Kiyoshi is), Kiyoshi’s contrarianism reduced to its nonviolent and even less effective form—he smoothes the hair back from Kiyoshi’s sweaty forehead. Kiyoshi sighs in his sleep; his hand reaches up to curl around Kazunari’s tightly.


End file.
